


i've never written a song about a boy

by sevenbraincells



Series: julie, himbos and the gay [4]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Carrie Wilson-centric, Coming Out, Eva Westphal, F/F, Gen, Lesbian Carrie Wilson, i've never written a song about a boy, supportive trevor wilson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26989999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenbraincells/pseuds/sevenbraincells
Summary: Carrie found herself in her bedroom with her guitar - yes, she played the guitar - and a notebook.She was writing a song.Ask Dirty Candy, and they’ll tell you that Carrie didn’t write many songs.That wasn’t true.  Carrie just didn’t like most of the songs that she wrote.There was always something off, something missing. But not this time.
Relationships: Kayla & Carrie Wilson, Kayla/Carrie Wilson
Series: julie, himbos and the gay [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963225
Comments: 17
Kudos: 111





	i've never written a song about a boy

Carrie took a deep breath. In, out, in, and then out again. 

Sure, for the most part, her dad’s meditating was a waste of time, but that wasn’t always the case, and she definitely appreciated more than a couple of the breathing techniques. 

After everything that happened with her mom, it had taken some time before she could look through her mom’s old stuff, without it hurting too much. 

She found herself in the guest house, which is where all of her mom’s stuff was. 

There were boxes, and there were a lot of them. Carrie barely knew where to start. 

But something caught her eye. A phone. One that couldn’t have been made in the last decade. But Carrie remembered it, she remembered the videos that she and her mom used to take of each other, with each other. 

She recognized them all, and didn’t really give them any of them a second thought. Carrie had seen them all thousands of times, growing up. All over the internet, as her parents lock screens, screensavers, and everywhere you could imagine, really.

But there was one that she found, one that didn’t seem to match the others. 

Because it wasn’t _anything_ like the Carrie Wilson everyone knew. 

It wasn’t like the Carrie Wilson anyone knew. 

Carrie barely knew that version of herself. 

She watched it, and she _felt_ something for the first time since it had happened. 

Because it wasn’t manufactured, it wasn’t edited or touched up. It was the raw truth. 

Carrie watched herself, in the video, knowing that she couldn’t have been more than six or seven years old when it was filmed. 

She saw herself, but it was a part that had been hidden for years in the girl on the screen. In the girl who was talking to her mom. 

Well, she wasn’t sure it could be called ‘talking’. It was just Carrie with her mom, telling her all the things that this version of herself would never say. 

Carrie took a deep breath as she watched again, seeing the way she had been so assertive. She’d always been that way, hadn’t she? But this was different. Carrie had _felt_ something and was standing up for it. And it was something real. 

“I’m never getting married.” She watched her six-year old self say. “You’re going to have to drag me down the aisle.” Little Carrie finished with a huff and her arms crossed. 

And Carrie almost smiled. But then her mom said something. 

“But _everyone_ gets married,” Carrie cringed. They both knew that wasn’t true. And maybe the little girl talking to her mom didn’t know that, but it wasn’t long before she found out. 

Not everyone was allowed to get married. 

Two women couldn’t marry each other, nor could two men. 

And that didn’t seem fair to Carrie. They were adults, grown and mature. 

What was the difference, what was the issue?

And because it didn’t seem fair, Carrie kept saying that she never wanted to get married. 

Because it wasn’t fair. That was it. No...nothings, no underlying reasons or anything like that. Carrie was just an ally, promising to never marry out of respect. 

Carrie did smile at _that_ memory, of her allyship. 

Carrie still didn’t want to get married, but that was a personal choice. 

Carrie smiled at the fact that two women were allowed to marry each other, knowing how happy her younger self would be. 

“Took them long enough,” Carrie imagined she would say. And she’d be right. 

It took them long, too long. 

But Carrie was done with the phone. 

She set it down, and took a look around her. 

She hadn’t known what she’d expected. The memories to come flooding back to her?

Carrie was never particularly close with her mom, but having _this_ happen, knowing that...she’d just expected to miss her more than she actually did. 

Carrie’s only regret was that she’d never get to tell her mom. 

But Carrie knew that she knew, and that was enough. 

One afternoon, Nick had been over at her place. They were watching a movie or something, and Carrie was only half paying attention. But her mind was a little preoccupied. 

She and Nick did _this_ pretty often. They were _technically_ boyfriend and girlfriend, so it was what was expected of them, but the reality was that he was her boy friend and she was his girl friend. And that’s all they really wanted it to be. 

Friends. 

And Carrie was sure that if they were actually together, the reason that she was preoccupied would’ve been because of the cute boy who was her _boyfriend_ , sitting less than a foot away from her. Instead, she was thinking about Kayla. 

Her, um, best friend. 

And the reason they were watching the movie. 

Kayla had said she liked it, and Carrie liked, no, _trusted_ Kayla and her judgement, so she was watching it. Sort of.

Carrie had texted Kayla, letting her know that she and Nick were going to watch the movie. 

Kayla had replied with no fewer than twenty emojis - at least half of them being star-eyes or heart-eyes emojis - and told Carrie to prepare for the hotness of one of the characters. 

But Carrie couldn’t even remember his name.

She hadn’t a clue why Kayla was crushing on him. 

It seemed almost...silly. 

She didn’t know the guy, nor did he _exist_ . Why have a crush on someone you don’t know? Like sure, there was nothing wrong with finding someone _attractive_ , or being attracted _to_ them, but a _crush_? On someone you don’t know, someone who didn’t even exist. 

Carrie didn’t get it. It didn’t make any sense to her. 

But maybe she was just a late bloomer?

Carrie didn’t think that she’d ever liked someone. Carrie didn’t even know how to tell if she’d ever liked someone. What even were the signs? 

She was tempted to text Kayla. But she knew that she was supposed to be watching the movie. So she did. She took a deep breath - maybe her dad’s meditation wasn’t as useless as she thought; it was starting to grow on her - and focused on what was happening on screen. 

It wasn’t bad, Carrie would admit that much. She just didn’t see what was so special about it. The movie ended, Nick hugged her and left. 

Later that night, she found herself in her bedroom with her guitar - yes, she played the guitar - and a notebook. 

She was writing a song. 

Ask Dirty Candy, and they’ll tell you that Carrie didn’t write many songs. 

That wasn’t true. Carrie just didn’t like most of the songs that she wrote. 

There was always something off, something missing. 

Something always just felt wrong, like her songs were just words without a tune. 

They were just shells and echoes of songs. 

She knew that there _could_ be something there, she just didn’t know how to write it. 

It was like getting married, she realized. 

It felt too personal, and too forced. 

She had the pages - and calluses - to prove it. 

Of course, she moisturized to get rid of the calluses, but they were there, as a - somewhat painful - reminder of all the songs that never were. 

She gave up on her song, having only written one line, when she decided to put some music on. For _inspiration_. And that was when she realized, that she’d never written a song about a boy. It was what was expected of her, to be boy crazy. 

But she wasn’t. It felt like a part of her was missing. But she still felt whole. 

She was rehearsing with Dirty Candy one day when she remembered being thirteen, having just made her little group into Dirty Candy, and walking down the hallway. There was a dance coming up, so of course they were talking about which boy would ask them. 

But Carrie didn’t even really want to go. 

She did, of course, because it was practically her job to. 

And she didn’t hate it as much as she thought she would, but as she thought back, there was a reason for that. 

No one had asked Kayla to the dance, and because Carrie had felt bad, she left her date - who was a family friend anyways - and danced with Kayla the whole night. 

Just so that Kayla wouldn’t feel like she was missing out, of course. 

That night, Carrie lay in bed, exhausted. 

She was thinking about that movie again, the one Kayla had asked her to watch. 

The more she thought about it, the less she seemed to like it.

She hated the fact that the biggest part of it was a guy sweeping some girl off her feet. 

There was so much else to admire, so much else that could’ve been done with the characters, the story, and the movie in general, but they chose that to be the grand finale. 

And Carrie just didn’t get it. 

Deep down, she did, but she wasn’t ready to admit it just yet. 

And then the words came flowing through her mind. 

_I must’ve written five hundred songs,_

_Have calluses to prove it,_

_Just me and the music._

_But something always just felt wrong._

They weren’t words without a tune anymore. 

Something in Carrie had clicked, and now it felt right. 

The world felt lighter then. Like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. 

She finished the song, as the words kept flowing. 

Carrie realized that she should tell her dad. 

He knew that he wouldn’t be upset. 

He wasn’t always the best dad, but he knew that he would support her in this. 

She knew that he’d been in a band when he was a teenager, and that one of his bandmates was...like her. And they’d been friends, he and her dad. Maybe not the closest, but she knew her dad still cared. He donated, he advocated, he did his best.

“Dad?” Carrie called, one afternoon after she’d gotten home from school. She hoped he was home, otherwise-

“Yeah?” She heard from the kitchen, and she took a deep breath and walked over there.

“Can we talk?” Carrie asked, sitting down at the island. 

“Of course honey,” he answered. “What about?”

“Uh- you know that old bandmate of yours that you told me about? The one who played the drums, or something. I know you don’t really like talking about your band, but, I just- I think I’m like him. Well, the opposite, I guess,” Carrie noticed herself starting to ramble on. “But you know what I mean.”

“I love you Carrie,” her dad said, walking around to hug her. “And I love that you told me, I’m really proud of you.” He kissed her on the forehead. 

He hadn’t done that since he was a kid. 

“So,” he started, his tone much less serious than before. “Is there a girl that you like that made you realize this or-”

Carrie shook her head. “It was just, a combination of things, I guess.”

“I see.”

“Uh huh.”

“You will tell me if there’s a girl you like, right?”

“Dad!”

“Okay, okay, I’m going.” He said, already halfway up the stairs, most likely to go meditate. 

“Actually dad, can you do me a favour?”

“Of course baby,” he said. 

Carrie smiled to herself. Everything was going to be alright. 

The good thing about her dad being rich and famous was that it was easy for her to get the things that she wanted. And what she wanted was a gig. 

She just didn’t know where to find them - she was used to her manager, which was Kayla, doing that. So she had her dad(‘s manager) send her some tips. 

She wanted to do this herself. By herself, for herself. 

And she did. She booked a gig. Not for Dirty Candy, but for Carrie Wilson. 

And she was just...happier. 

She was there that night, as was the most of her school. It wasn’t a school dance, but it wasn’t the Orpheum either. It was just a little coffee shop. 

And Carrie thought that it just felt right for her song. 

She’d invited Kayla, obviously, because she was her best friend, and Nick too - though she’d broken up with him before this. He understood without her even having to tell him. 

Carrie still apologized though. 

And yet, when Kayla walked in, she was still surprised to see her. 

“Carrie, hi,” Kayla said, walking up to her. 

“Kayla, good to see you,” Carrie greeted, giving Kayla an awkward hug. 

“You have a gig.”

“I do.”

“And your hair’s not pink.”

“It isn’t.”

“You wrote a song?” Kayla asked, and she understood.

“Kayla, there’s something I have to tell you. I’m-”

Kayla smiled. “I know. I’m so proud of you for figuring it out and I love you.” 

Kayla stopped for a second, and there was some awkwardness in the air. 

“Carrie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean- sorry for interrupting you, I know this is like, really important and hard for you- I just. I’m bad at this, I guess. I’m really sorry Carrie.”

“Kayla, it’s okay,” Carrie said, going to hug Kayla. “Really, I promise you.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” Carrie held out her hand, and Kayla giggled - and so did Carrie - as they did their little handshake they made up back when they were nine or ten. 

“You’re gonna kill it out there.”

“I hope so.”

Carrie didn’t get stage fright, but she didn’t not get stage fright. 

Going on with Dirty Candy was a lot harder than she made it seem. It was hard for her to sing and dance at the same time. And the timing? Yeah, it took a lot out of her. 

But this? Playing at the coffee shop, where both people she knew and people she didn’t were there and about to here her be more honest than she’d ever been before?

That felt right. 

_“There’s an old video on my mom’s phone,”_ Carrie started, and it all just fell into place. 

She sang and got lost in the music. 

It was just like she had written. 

_Just me and the music_. 

“ _The world looks brighter now, now that I’m happy.”_

And when she sang, “ _I think that I am finally me,”_ she could’ve sworn that she saw Kayla, mouth the words with a smile. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Julie's mouth move. She was talking, she realized. To herself, it seemed. Carrie couldn’t make out the words, nor did she try to. 

This was her moment; she was going to focus on herself and her song. 

“ _Then I realized, I’ve never written one song about a boy_ ,” she finished, and was met with applause. She made her way off the stage, still holding her guitar. 

Kayla came up to her, and told her that it was beautiful, and Carrie could’ve sworn that she’d seen a couple of tears in her eyes. That was expected, more or less. 

But Flynn? And Julie? 

That she hadn’t seen coming. 

It was an awkward moment, but it wasn’t a terrible one. 

Flynn immediately ran up to her and hugged her, which, was definitely something. 

Because they were _not_ friends. 

Julie just congratulated her, saying that she was happy for her. She cleared her throat. “Not gonna lie, Wilson, you have talent.”

“You too Molina,” Carrie said, and she'd felt something in those words. In Julie's. 

It was almost like...old times. 

Good times. When it was just them against the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> STREAM IVE NEVER WRITTEN A SONG ABOUT A BOY BY EVA WESTPHAL
> 
> oh and, i was listening to Wonderland by Taylor Swift while writing this and i felt Willex. like,,i don't know why, but i really got Willex vibes from that song. please listen to the song and tell me i'm not hearing things. 
> 
> p.s i can't decide if kayla's bi or pan. please help.  
> (no she's not straight, shut up).


End file.
